


When It's Over

by Fangirling_FTW



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20 coda, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Grieving Dean Winchester, Grieving Sam Winchester, Heaven is all Better, In that theyre in heaven, M/M, Mentioned main character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: Sam tries to understand Dean's grief.Jack watches from the heaven he's rebuilt.And Dean finally gets to break his silence.
Relationships: Blurry Woman (Supernatural: Carry On)/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 28
Kudos: 82





	When It's Over

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK AT ME! BACK AFTER A LONG HIATUS WITH A 6500 WORD FICLET!! *sobs*
> 
> Yes hello, I had a baby and finally after a year my brain has decided that it's time to start writing again. I wasn't able to process the finale really, and I'm still kind of trying to wrap my brain around it, and I think that writing this finally helped me do that. Now saying that I do want to say that I wrote this mostly for me, to see if I could even do it, and while I'm so proud and happy to share this with you guys this is how my brain is processing the finale, and some of it might not sit ~perfectly with some people and that's ok. If I need to add tags or anything please let me know, otherwise enjoy some simple angst with some feels and a happy ending <3

It’s a quiet day, the sun is up, the breeze is light, and the sound of birds chirping in the trees lends a peaceful atmosphere to the little park bench Sam finds himself sitting on. 

He’s learned to never take the sound of birds for granted again.

There’s a family playing on the playground nearby, one of the moms pushing a toddler on the swing, the other mom watching a 6 year old climb the jungle gym. A cooler sits on a bright blue blanket, lunch waiting for them on the grass. Sam’s mind flashes back to another playground, another set of empty swings rocking and food laid out and abandoned. Of overturned bikes and unoccupied strollers, cars still running but no one to drive them. Lily’s teddy bear sitting on the cot in the silo. 

Sam sets his jaw and takes a deep breath, pulling himself out of the spiral before it’s too late. Today he promised himself he would try not to linger on the memories. He knows he’ll come to terms with them eventually, after everything he’s been through coping with trauma has become almost second nature. But today, today he’s going to take a step in the direction of moving on.

That raises its own question- how  _ does _ he come back from that, from staring down the absolute abyss of nothingness and loneliness? How does he reconcile what his life was like before he knew it could all be taken away to after having everything taken from him? The feeling of the floor suddenly dropping out from underneath him when Eileen stopped texting him, arriving to find her just  _ gone  _ after finally getting her back...

“Sam! I’ve come bearing coffee!” Sam raises his head and watches as Eileen walks up with a cup in her outstretched hand and a smile on her face. Sam relaxes, managing a smile as one of the few good things left from his life  _ before  _ sits down next to him.

He allows himself that memory, the one the day Jack ascended or whatever. Dean drives them to her apartment, neither of them voicing the concern of  _ what if she isn’t there _ , just driving in silence and hoping for this  _ one  _ thing. Sam won’t ever forget the image of her bemused look and raised eyebrow, the words  _ what did you do with my car  _ practically echoing in his ears, the scent of her hair as he tugged her in close. Holding her again, knowing she was  _ real _ …that’s when Sam accepted that maybe, finally, it was all over.

Eileen brushes her hair out of her face so she can drink from her own cup of coffee, smiling up at him when she notices him watching. It’s only been a few days, and although Sam continues to ask himself how to move on, he already has his answer. 

Eileen is his How.

Sam turns slightly on the bench to face her, setting his coffee down between them.

“How was your drive?” Sam asks, fumbling through the signs as best as he remembers. 

“It’s  _ drive,”  _ Eileen responds, correcting him with a smile. “Uneventful. Boring even.” 

“I could have gone with you,” he says, but she shakes her head.

“It’s fine Sam.”

“I know,” he sighs. “We talked about this, I know, but- I mean-“ He falters to a stop, the pain rearing its ugly head again. She brushes her hand on his cheek before continuing to sign.

“Next time why don’t we go somewhere together,” she suggests. “Make a vacation out of it.” 

“Alright, deal.” She grins and Sam can’t stop himself, he leans in and gently kisses her, simple comfort taken from knowing that he  _ can _ . She smiles, catching her lower lip between her teeth before leaning forward to kiss Sam again. Sam cups her face with his hands, fingers brushing her hair and it’s enough, right now is enough.

The two of them share the rest of their coffee in companionable silence, their hands sometimes brushing against a knee, their fingers catching onto the other, small reassurances that they’re both taking steps to  _ really  _ healing. Sam finishes his coffee first, tossing the cup in the trash can next to the bench. 

“How’s Dean?” Sam winces when Eileen asks the question, even though he was expecting it. He doesn’t have an answer really, not yet. The handbook for dealing with his brother’s grief didn’t have any entries for ‘losing the entire world and then your son becomes God’. 

Sam’s mind goes back to the day after  _ everything,  _ walking into the bunker library to find Dean slumped over the table, blood all over the place and an empty whiskey bottle next to him. Miracle was barking furiously as he paced around Dean’s still form like he was trying to help. Sam rushed to his brother’s side to see Cas’ name mostly carved into the wood of the table by their initials, realizing Dean’s knife had slipped and sliced his hand open. Sam whipped off his flannel and wrapped his brother’s hand, but he had no way to stem the flow of tears running down Dean’s face. Dean’s words echoed through the library, haunting Sam in the echoes of his own pain.

_ “I couldn’t do- I couldn’t do even this- Sam I couldn’t…”  _

Sam bandaged his brother’s hand and got him into bed, cleaned the table and finished the carving for Dean, his own tears added to what Dean had let fall earlier. He misses Cas, the angel’s constant presence even larger in his absence but Dean, the way Dean is reacting to losing Cas is different this time. With the Leviathan it was disappointment, when they lost him to Lucifer years later there was rage, but this  _ silence _ is so much worse. Dean still hasn’t told him everything about what happened that day, about the Empty and Death and all of it. There are huge pieces missing from the story and Sam, as hard as he tries, can’t fill in the blanks. He’s resigned himself to waiting for Dean to decide he’s ready to share.

He pulls himself back into the present, and to Eileen’s credit she sits waiting patiently next to him. 

“He’s healing, physically anyway. There’s a lot that he just, uh, he just needs time for.” It’s as close to an answer as he’s got and Eileen nods, leaning on his shoulder as they stare out across the street at the family who have finally sat down to enjoy their lunch. 

When Eileen finishes her coffee, the two of them drive back to the Bunker, the hallways and rooms silent save for the hum of the air scrubbers and the echo of their footsteps as they make their way to the kitchen. Sam sometimes misses the bustle of having other hunters around, but now that everyone is safe from a vindictive deity they’ve all decided to find more permanent homes in this world, scattering across the country to make their own way. They still call from time to time, there’s still things hidden away in rooms that Sam hasn’t managed to upload to the online database, but for now it’s just him and Dean and the occasional visits from family. 

To Sam’s utter surprise Dean is sitting at the kitchen table, Miracle jumping up from where he was laying at Dean’s feet to happily greet Eileen. Dean hasn’t shaved yet, five days of facial hair still clouding his face, and dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights, but he’s sober and the dead look in his eyes has lifted somewhat.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean’s voice is hoarse from disuse, but it’s more than he’s said to Sam since the hand cutting incident. Sam turns and gets Eileen’s attention. He signs for the medkit and she nods, turning from the kitchen to head for the infirmary, Miracle following happily behind. Sam sits across from Dean at the table, his chest bursting with questions but he manages to keep them to himself. 

“Let’s change your bandages,” he says instead. Dean holds his hand out across the table and Sam starts to unwrap the gauze.

“So, you and Eileen, picking up where you left off?” Sam shrugs, keeping his eyes focused on his brother’s hand.

“I mean, there’s no going back to before. We both have a lot to work through.”

“But…? C’mon Sam I hear a but.” Sam smiles, Dean’s teasing a little sign of normal.

“ _ But  _ we decided we wanted to work through things together. Acknowledge we have a, a  _ thing _ and just kinda see where it goes.” Dean’s hand twitches slightly as Sam removes the last of the bandages. The gash runs most of the length of his palm almost in a straight line from the base of his pinky to the base of his index finger. “You know you’re lucky this wasn’t worse.”

“Lucky, yeah. Maybe Jack gave us back our weird God hero mojo.” He stands to go wash his wound in the sink and Sam tenses, the mention of what happened with Jack the first acknowledgement he’s gotten from Dean that any of it happened at all. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean dries his hand carefully before sitting back down, and with a soft clacking Miracle walks back in the kitchen and goes right up to Dean to rest his head on Dean’s knee, accepting some ear scratches from Dean’s uninjured hand. 

“Hey, boy,” Dean chuffs. Eileen follows shortly behind, handing him the medical supplies with a soft squeeze of Sam’s shoulder. 

“You know, I never thought you would be a dog person,” Eileen says, sitting down next to Sam. She’s smiling gently, taking the sting out of her words and Dean’s eyes smile even if his mouth doesn’t. 

“Yeah me neither but, uh, yeah, kinda stuck with this one I guess.” Sam dabs disinfectant on Dean’s wound, deciding to go for broke and try and get Dean to talk.

“How do you think he’s doing? Jack, I mean.” 

“Well it’s early, only a few days on the job, but the lack of weird shit I think speaks to his handle on the situation.” Dean goes still, watching what Sam is doing closely. “He’ll be fine, he had you as a role model.”

“Us, he had us,” Sam corrects him. “You, me, Cas…”. He stops talking but the word is out there, hanging between the two of them. It’s silent in the kitchen as he finishes wrapping Dean’s hand, Sam arguing back and forth with himself until finally he decides he doesn’t want to wait for answers anymore. “Dean, what happened?” Dean takes his hand back when Sam is finished, running his other set of fingers over the bandage as Sam watches and waits for his brother to make up his mind. When Dean finally does start talking, his tone is quiet, a kind of wistful sadness Sam’s not used to.

“You remember when Jack died, the first time?” They share a bemused half smile at the fact that their lives will always need a clarifier for that. “Cas went to get him in heaven while we worked with Lily Sunder. Apparently, there were complications.”

“What, from the angels?”

“From the Empty.” The way Dean says it makes Sam’s stomach drop. “See, apparently the Empty thought it was entitled to Jack’s soul or whatever because it gets to collect all the Angels who die, and it wanted to drag him off to the big old nothing.”

“But Jack was only half Angel.”

“Exactly. Which is why he wound up in heaven. Anyway long story short Cas offered himself in Jack’s place if the Empty would let Jack go.” Sam runs a hand over his face, unable to stop his half smile.

“Sounds like Cas.”

“Sounds like an idiot,” Dean scoffs, with no small amount of fondness. 

“Wait,” Sam says, piecing together the memories, “Cas wasn’t taken right away, obviously so there were terms to the deal, I’m guessing?” 

“Yeah.” Dean sighs heavily. “Yeah, the uh, the Empty was still pissed at him for waking it up, I guess, so it told Cas that it wouldn’t come for him until he-” his voice breaks slightly, but he composes himself, “until he felt a moment of true happiness.”

“True happiness, being our friend?” Dean tilts his head in silent agreement. “I guess I can see why Cas took the deal.” He notices the tightness to Dean’s jaw. “Guess it didn’t work out so well in the end.”

“He’s a fucking idiot Sam, he should have known better.” Dean sounds like he’s had this argument with himself many times, so Sam doesn’t answer and lets his brother work it out on his own. “Like I get it, I do, it was Jack you know? I can’t say I haven’t done some stupid shit when it comes to family but he didn’t even hesitate and- and stop and think about himself for one goddamn second.” 

“When did he ever?” Sam points out.

“No,” Dean snaps, pushing to his feet. “No not this time, this time it’s different Sam. This time he-” Dean’s voice gets stuck in his throat, and he clears it, dropping his chin to his chest as he breathes through it. “We were trapped, Sam, backed into a corner with no way out and that was it. Death is pounding on the door,  _ literally  _ I’m standing there staring down oblivion and Cas starts to smile. God his face he-” Dean takes another moment leaning hard against the prep table. “He gives this speech, this whole thing, and it’s all about me. Everything I hate about myself but he’s talking about these things like they’re beautiful things, about why I do what I do, and he, he says… he says that he learned to love the whole fucking world, because he loved me.” Dean’s crying now, not bothering to try and hide it anymore. “He said, he said that his ‘happiness wasn’t in having, it was in just being.’ The fuck am I supposed to do with that, huh?”

Eileen, who had been simply observing up until then gasps from where she sits next to Sam, her hand moving to cover her mouth as tears start to well in her eyes. It takes Sam just a moment to figure out what she’s so upset about, but when he plays back Dean’s words, and thinks about the true happiness moment, it finally clicks for him. 

“Cas was in love with you.” Dean turns his head to the ceiling, two trails of tears shining on his cheeks as he tries to keep his breathing under control. 

“Cas’ true happiness was in telling you you were loved, not in having you love him back,” Eileen says, and Dean huffs out a puff of breath.

“And the Empty came, and it all happened so fast I didn’t- I couldn’t- I’m watching my best friend, someone who knows me better than anyone tell me he  _ loves  _ me and before I can even figure out what that means he’s just gone.” 

“Dean-”

“I didn’t get to tell him, Sam! He’s in that place, that  _ nothing,  _ and I didn’t get to tell him that he was loved too, that he was fucking important and that he changed  **me** . He needed to hear those words, Sam, at least once in his fucking life he should have heard someone loved him.” Dean gasps for air. “I should have told him I loved him, too.” Sam doesn’t have words, he can’t console his brother with false platitudes and reassurances, so he pushes himself to his feet and just wraps Dean up in a hug. Dean’s grip is crushing in its intensity but Sam doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t let go until Dean begins to move away.

“Sorry, sorry I-”

“Don’t, don't ever apologize for this.” Sam squeezes Dean’s shoulder and looks over as Eileen approaches them.

“You deserved to hear those words at least once, too,” she says as she signs. “You’re a good man, Dean, and Castiel may be gone but for a moment you made him  _ happy. _ ” She gives Dean a hug, meeting Sam’s eyes over Dean’s shoulder and Sam nods, clearing the emotion out of his own throat. He and Eileen both know that what they have is special, but it isn’t by any means guaranteed. Sam knows this and yet he knows that being with Eileen right now is worth every moment of grief he may feel later on. Dean didn’t even get that chance. All his brother’s behavior makes sense now, all the pieces falling into place. Sam wishes the answer made him feel better, but at least he has an answer.

“Gah, I didn’t really mean to just unload on you like this, I guess it just kinda came out.” There’s a quiet pause and Dean snorts a small laugh. Sam tries not to but he smiles and chuckles a little too, and Eileen grins and starts to laugh and for a few moments the three of them just chuckle at Dean’s accidental pun, that small dose of healing that only family and time can provide.

Dinner that night consists of a movie (Tremors: A Cold Day In Hell) in the Dean Cave and Kansas City barbecue from a local restaurant. They talk, they laugh at the awful movie, and for a brief moment it’s a little bit of that  _ before. _ There’s an empty space in the room no one is addressing, the two chairs that used to be occupied by their best friend and their pseudo-son. They sit off by the pool table facing the TV, like they’re just waiting to be filled, like Cas is off in the kitchen getting beers and Jack is grabbing a blanket for Eileen.

Sam catches Dean glancing at them too, or even at the door sometimes, but the shadow passes, and Sam starts to think that maybe, maybe they can move on. Maybe with enough small steps and enough time they can go on to live lives in the  _ after. _

****

“They look happier.” Jack’s voice carries a question. 

“And?”

“And yet, there’s still so much they carry on their shoulders. Things that they shouldn’t need to carry anymore.” Jack thinks for a moment, considering the answer to his question. The power to  _ know  _ hangs there like a temptation, but the burden of that knowledge is too great so he lets it be. “Do you think they’ll ever know peace?”

“I don’t doubt they deserve it. More than most. But I also know them, their hearts and their souls, and so long as there’s someone out there in need, they won’t say no to helping them.”

“They could stop hunting,” Jack points out. “It’s a choice they can make. To stop, to build any life they want.”

“That may be a road they take. As you said, it’s their choice, and when confronted with it maybe they will surprise us both and make it.”

“Maybe.” Jack closes his eyes, well, the form he takes in Heaven closes its eyes. He traverses down the path of Sam and Dean Winchester, intricate webs of choices and branches they can take flowing in smaller or larger lines from a point until it forms a large fork- one direction lay a continuing life of hunting, the other the life they would have if they stopped. “Although I can’t interfere, as their family I hope that they choose to stop. That road has a much gentler ending.” He turns to his companion, a form he knew so well on Earth and once again manifested here in Heaven. “Do you miss them?”

“I do.” Jack pauses for a moment, considering that answer.

“I could fix that, one last time.” Castiel takes a breath, resting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“I know, Jack. But I think… I think Dean needs more time.” 

“Even after what he said?” Jack’s question brings a subtle melancholy to Castiel’s face. Not pain, exactly, there’s too much warmth for that. Perhaps it is the subtle grief for what could have been, or maybe the warm memory of what already was.

“I didn’t need to hear him say it.” Cas’ answer is simple and Jack nods, turning his attention to their current surroundings. It’s a bar, created by the souls who frequent it, filled with all the familiar comforts of Earth, including the smell. Friends who became family shuffle about, laughing and telling stories, reminiscing over fond memories as they look forward to being joined by others later. The flow of time is perceptible to Jack, but for these human souls an eternity could pass and they’d think it had just been a few days. He and Castiel had spent a lot of time working on undoing the prison like set up Chuck had created for the souls to dwell in and the angels to control. Every now and then something comes up, a  _ glitch in the Matrix  _ is what Cas calls it; Jack knows it’s referencing a movie but it isn’t one he’s seen yet. After discussion and the input of everyone involved they fix the glitches, and things have now stabilized into this replication of Earth but better. 

The TV above the bar is playing the current view of their family in the Bunker, and after watching Dean laugh at something Eileen says, Jack turns it off, pushing to his feet.

“When we changed the foundation of Heaven I thought humans would be more… original,” he says, carefully lifting a shoe that got stuck to the bar floor. 

“Humans for all their wonderful details and emotional intricacies are creatures of habit by nature. Even if they know they can live however and wherever they want, sometimes all they want is the comfort they know. And sometimes that’s not a bad thing at all,” Cas smiles. He waves at a table of people, some of whom Jack recognizes from photos back on Earth, and others he recognizes by virtue of who he is now. “Come on,” Cas says, placing a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder and leading him out into the sunlight. “We’ve got some work to do.”

****

_ Cas helped. _

Bobby’s words keep bouncing around Dean’s brain as he drives aimlessly, a little pump of adrenaline in his heart each time.

Not that he has a heart anymore, physically anyway. Fucking weird to think about, how real the car feels and the air he’s breathing and the thud of a non-existent organ in his non-existent chest. Man this is gonna take some getting used to.

_ Cas helped. _

Finding out that Cas is here in heaven somewhere sets Dean on a rambling journey through a million different questions. 

_ How did he get out of the Empty? Why did Jack remake heaven in the first place? What about the other angels? Where do the angels hang out if the souls have the run of the place now? Could he accidentally bump into another Teresa at the heaven equivalent of the grocery store? Were there grocery stores? What would he buy at one if there was? How does he get in touch with people he wants to see? Should he pray to them? _

_ Did Cas hear his prayers? _

After the last one Dean’s glad he’s not on an actual road or he might have driven himself off into a ditch, the way it stops him cold. As it is, the Impala comes to a stop, idling on the long stretch of unmarked highway, trees and long grass outside the windows waving in a breeze that wasn’t real. What contentment he’d found after talking to Bobby gives way to an ache behind his rib cage.

All those lonely nights, replaying that moment over and over, wishing he had said  _ something _ , anything before Cas was taken. All that anger, frustration, guilt, everything he’d confessed to the dark knowing it was just him shouting into the void, knowing no one was listening. Times he prayed to the universe, begging for a chance to redo that one moment in time. Prayers turned to shouting angrily at Cas for telling him that, for using his love for Dean in such a cruel way, and for leaving him when he always said he never would. Prayed to be allowed to forget what he feels, to get over Cas and move on because it wouldn’t have worked out anyway, nothing he wants ever does. Times he prayed for it to all just  _ end _ .

He grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as his arms shake with the effort, then forces a breath into his lungs and out, relaxing again.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe no one heard him, just like he thought. Considering he’s in heaven, Dean’s suddenly feeling a whole lot less  _ happily ever after _ . 

Shaking his head he clears those thoughts away. All of that is behind him now, left behind on Earth where he doesn’t need to worry about it any more. Sure, his soul will bear those scars, but like Bobby said, time works differently. Maybe here, if he lets himself, he’ll be able to heal where he couldn’t on Earth. He continues to drive, heading in no particular direction, the road simply taking him where it wants him to go. After a while he comes to a bridge and he gets the feeling like it’s where he should stop so he does, climbing out of the car and looking around. It feels so  _ real,  _ the air and the sounds and the smells, the water rushing by beneath him and the wind blowing through the huge evergreens. He can’t help a small smile, walking to the railing and testing the texture of it under his palm before leaning on it, continuing to take in the scenery. A deer walks out of the woods and into the stream, silently pausing for a drink before lifting its head to look around, eyes falling on Dean’s form on the bridge before it continues on its way.

Yeah, maybe this isn’t so bad. 

There’s a feeling all of a sudden, a whisper and a sense of not being alone, but just as quickly as it appears it feels warm, like family, and he  _ knows. _

“Hey, Sammy.” He turns to see Sam standing there, seemingly nonplussed by both the scenery around him, and that Dean is there waiting. 

“Dean.” Dean gets the sense without asking that finally, after everything he’s been through, Sam got to live that normal life he always wanted, and Dean takes comfort in that. He feels like he just saw Sam not too long ago, if he had to put a number on it he only feels like he’s been here in heaven for a few hours, but he can tell from the look in Sam’s eyes it’s been quite some time for Sam. As he walks over to his brother, he can’t help but grin, Sam letting out a small chuckle to disguise his emotion as they embrace. Dean keeps a reassuring hand on his shoulder as they pull away, and he and Sam pause to take in the ‘world’ around them. 

There’s no words, even with how much time has passed they don’t need them, they never have. They take a moment together to appreciate that their struggle is over, and then after Sam sniffs back a few tears they climb back in the car and drive off.

Dean tells Sam everything Bobby said, about how Heaven is different now, about how they can go see anyone they want whenever they want. He brings up the whole time working different thing, even if he doesn’t understand it, and that makes Sam smile. 

“I uh, I have- had?- a son. When he gets here someday I’ll introduce you.” 

“Yeah, you and Eileen work things out?”

“Actually, uh, she,” Sam clears his throat, and Dean immediately regrets asking, “she died about five years after you did. Oddly enough from cancer, something completely and totally normal.”

“Sam, man I’m sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright. We had some amazing years together. We traveled to all these amazing places, met some wonderful people, right up until the end. She fought so hard, but after everything she- she didn’t want to ‘fix’ it with a spell or anything, she just wanted to live like a normal person for a while, and we did.” Sam smiles. “I guess I could go find her again, according to the new rules of Heaven.”

“We’ll figure out from Bobby how that whole thing works, alright, first thing.” Dean pauses, not sure if he should press but naturally he’s curious now.

“I can hear your brain working Dean. Yes, I met someone after Eileen passed away. Kiera was a wonderful woman, but she knew, I think, that our marriage was more about companionship than love.”

“That sounds kind of sad, Sam.”

“We met in a grief counseling group, Dean.”

“What, like AA for people who lost their spouses?” 

“Something like that,” Sam rolls his eyes.

“Sammy, you picked up a chick who was mourning her dead husband?”

“Her dead wife,” Sam counters, “and like I said, we were both lonely. Nice to know that as soon as I get to Heaven I get to be judged by you again.” Sam’s reply is snarky, but there’s a little bit of a laugh in his tone.

“You have the weirdest freakin love life Sam, I swear to God- well, Jack?” Dean shakes his head. “You know what? I’m never using that phrase again but I stand by my point.” Sam laughs, and it’s enough to bring a smile to Dean’s face too.

“Yeah, well we made it work, and we helped each other heal. She never stopped loving her wife and I never stopped loving Eileen, and I think we both knew that going in, even until the end.” Dean nods, and they go quiet for a little while. When they pull back up to the Roadhouse where Dean started, Sam laughs. 

“You’re kidding, the Roadhouse?”

“I know, Sam, look at it in all its ramshackle glory.” Sam climbs out of the car and takes in the building with an appraising look. There’s music coming from the building now, voices and laughter and Dean knows what he’s going to find when he walks in. Friends, family, everyone he wants to see, and who wants to see him. Except… “Wonder if Ash had a hand in making this new heaven,” Sam’s excited, eager to see everyone and he starts to walk towards the door. 

“I’m sure he did,” Dean chuckles, not moving from next to the car. Sam turns back when he notices Dean isn’t following, head tilted slightly in a question. “There’s uh, there’s something I didn’t tell you, about what Bobby said.”

“I mean, I could just go in and hear it from the man himself,” Sam points out with a smirk. 

“Sam, it’s Cas.” Sam goes still, eyes going wide. 

“Cas- as in he’s here?“

“Bobby said he helped Jack rebuild this place, and I can’t- I need to see him, Sam.”

“Yeah, of course, Dean.” Sam moves to rejoin him in the car but Dean puts out an arm, stopping him. 

“We’ll have all the time we need to catch up,” Dean says, patting Sam none too gently on the cheek. “You go in there, see everyone, get a hold of Eileen. I’ll be back.” 

“Dean, you-“

“SAM WINCHESTER! You best get yourself in here before your beer gets warm, I got some folks who are dying to see you!” They both turn to look and see Charlie,  _ their  _ Charlie hanging out the door, waving frantically. Dean smiles and waves back, and Sam's face lights up, happier than Dean has seen him in untold years. 

“Go on, Sam.” He gives Sam a little shove, and with one final moment of hesitation Sam walks inside the Roadhouse, a chorus of cheers greeting him as he disappears through the door. Dean takes in a deep breath and forces it out in a huff, turning to get back in the car just as he hears the telltale  _ whoosh _ of Angel wings behind him, a noise he will never forget.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s knees almost buckle, hearing his voice again, hearing his name said with that same inflection. He turns and there’s Cas, standing by the trunk of the Impala, still in the goddamn trench coat. The only discernible difference Dean can see is that he looks lighter, both in a sense of not carrying a burden anymore but also in that he has an almost… well a weird aura around his edges.

“Hey, Cas.” His voice is thick, which is stupid because he doesn’t have a voice box to get crushed by nervously tense muscles as he tries to swallow his heart back into his chest. Cas’ head tilts slightly, like he can  _ see  _ Dean’s struggle. “So, you’re not in the Empty.”

“No, no I am not.” Dean walks over to Cas, the two of them heading off on foot along the tree line. “I’m not sure what the Empty’s plans for me were, but not long after I arrived Jack showed up and offered to put it back to sleep. I’m not sure if it was Jack’s power, or maybe just exhaustion, but it agreed, and Jack brought me home.”

“Just like that, huh?” Dean chuckles. “Didn’t think Jack was that good a negotiator.”

“Well, Jack has untold power now, he has access to a lot of abilities none of us knew he had.” Cas smiles. “You’d be proud of him, Dean. He’s done a lot of good work here.”

“It’s pretty awesome, I don’t deny it,” Dean says, gesturing at the nature around them. The path they’re walking gives way to a small field, wildflowers in bloom all around and a lake in the middle, a small cabin sitting right in the center of the picturesque little image. The sun is glinting off the water, giving the place an almost ethereal glow. “Did we stumble into Thomas Kinkade’s heaven?” Dean wonders, blinking at all the color attacking his irises.

“This is my home,” Cas says quietly. 

“Oh, I uh, it’s really pretty and shit Cas, I uh, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Cas says with a small laugh. Dean flushes but follows behind Castiel as they walk towards a small bench nestled amongst the flowers, just on the edge of the water. “You seem a little surprised that this is what I’ve chosen.”

“Yeah, I mean, if this is your thing that’s great but it’s not not what I pictured, I guess.”

“What did you picture?” Dean opens his mouth to respond but realizes he… hasn’t thought about it. Castiel sits on the bench, adjusting his coat and looking up at Dean curiously, and his face is so achingly familiar and  _ fuck  _ Dean missed seeing it. All of it, the blue eyes and the wrinkles and the hair and just… Cas. After a few moments of quiet, he drops his head and mutters the only thing he can think of, regardless of how vulnerable it makes him feel.

“I guess I just always pictured you with me.” His can feel his cheeks flush, embarrassed as fuck and ready to just turn and walk back to the Roadhouse, but instead of laughing or, well, saying anything, Cas reaches out to touch his forearm, gently encouraging him to sit on the bench. 

“I realize that my words on our parting have caused you some pain.”  _ Oh fuck right to it I guess. _ Dean tries to appear relaxed as he watches the heavenly manifestation of some bug causing small ripples on the surface of the lake, but his entire being is hyper focused on everything Cas is saying. “I hope you understand it was never my intention to hurt you, and I also hope you understand why they needed to be said.” 

“You just dumped all that on me and  _ died  _ Cas, how was that not supposed to hurt?” Cas lowers his head, taking a deep breath and Dean wonders how his stomach can turn in knots when it’s not even fucking real.

“And I would do it again, Dean, if it meant saving you. And-“ Cas pauses, like he’s bracing himself for what he has to say. “And knowing that, if there was another way out of that room, if I hadn’t had to activate my deal… knowing if that never happened I would never have told you how I feel… I don’t regret it, Dean. I know I would have kept my silence for as long as I needed, and telling you has been a freedom I never thought I’d find.”

“Cas, you could have told me, man. Before the threat of imminent death.”

“Could I? Would you, Dean, knowing who you were then, would you have accepted my words, my confession under any other circumstance?” Dean wants to immediately say yes, but it would taste like a lie, so he doesn’t. He clears his throat and starts talking, hoping that somewhere in this word vomit he’ll find what he needs to say.

“Cas, I’ve had a lot of time to think about that day, about everything you said. I couldn’t forget a damn word of that whole speech even when I wanted to, even when I drank to try and make myself forget.” Cas is silent, eyes turned to the ground as Dean speaks. “I had a lot of time to think about what I didn’t say, what I could have said. And I got angry and I got frustrated and I felt like shit and guilty as fuck and every time,  _ every time  _ I went around that circle of words in my head, I always came back to one thing. One thing, Cas.” Cas looks up at him, his face unreadable or maybe just that way because Dean doesn’t want to know what he’s thinking for fear it might keep him from finally being able to say this. “You said- you said the one thing you wanted you knew you couldn’t have. Cas… you’ve always had me.” 

“ _ Dean.”  _ Cas’ face in that moment shows more emotion than Dean’s ever seen him show the whole time he’s known him. Without hesitating Dean wraps Cas in a hug, awkward as the angle is sitting next to him on the bench. It’s the truth Dean kept coming back to, that no matter how much he kids himself, or he tries to ignore it, he belonged to Cas some time ago. It just took losing him to realize it.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. It’s just that I never let myself have anything good because every time I found something I lost it. Maybe that’s why it was easier to let myself get pissed at you whenever things got fucked up, because I- I couldn’t handle the alternative.”

“I know, Dean.” Dean clings to Cas, the smell of him just like Dean remembers, Cas’ body solid in his arms and his hands wrapped tightly around his own torso. And it’s the most real anything has felt to Dean in his life. Eventually they separate, Cas’ soft smile bringing one to Dean’s face.

“So… what now?” Dean wonders.

“Now, we go back to the Roadhouse and see your family.” Cas pushes himself to his feet and Dean reaches out and grabs his hand, surprising himself in the process. 

“Our family, Cas. Our family.” 

“Okay, Dean. Our family.” There’s a pause while the universe aligns itself or some shit where Dean is transfixed by Cas’ gaze, only this time when he wonders what it would be like to kiss him he’s no longer daydreaming. Cas leans forward, and oh this is happening and Dean’s not prepared but Cas kisses him and he surges to his feet, Cas’ face in his hands as he kisses him back with years of built up frustration. It’s messy and awkward but also hot and full of emotion and if Dean’s honest it’s the perfect analogy to the two of them.

“Okay,  _ now _ we can go back to the Roadhouse,” Dean gasps with a smirk when they’re finally done. 

“Dean, are you sure you want to go see everyone when you-“

“It’s fine, Cas, just don’t kiss me again and it’ll chill out by the time we get there,” Dean grumbles, adjusting his pants with an embarrassed huff. They fall into step together back down the path, and Dean’s never been a hand holding guy but when Cas’ fingers interlock with his he doesn’t ever want to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave some Kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you for stopping by to help celebrate the end of my writer's block from hell!


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